


A Downward Spiral

by XProSkeith



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Depression, Drug Use, Drugs, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Sciles, TW: drug use, Trigger Warning: depression, sciles brotp, trigger warning: drug use, tw depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XProSkeith/pseuds/XProSkeith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is a giveaway from tumblr user mrsnugglebum. He won and this is based on his prompt.</p>
<p>Stiles finds himself unable to cope with the aftermath of the nogitsune incident. He is plagued by memories and flashbacks of that time and he is overwhelmed by guilt and depression. Finally, he turns to drugs. From there, things spiral out of control. Scott realizes what's going on and tries to save him, but is it too late? Can he pull Stiles off his destructive path before he's too far gone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Downward Spiral

Stiles had been having nightmares again. Sometimes they even came to him while he was awake. He was constantly haunted by the memories and images of what he'd done. What the nogitsune had done. There wasn't any difference to Stiles. He'd killed so many people and severely injured other including his own best friend. He'd literally tortured Scott. As he thought of that again, the vivid images of that night flashed back into his mind and Stiles collapsed to his knees, clasping his hands to his head. Stiles had figured out a way to numb the pain finally. It wasn't too bad, right? It was just weed. It was supposed to have a lot of therapeutic effects. It definitely made him feel better and allowed him to forget things for a while. Without further hesitation, Stiles pulled out a pipe and loaded a large bowl of weed. He smoked it pretty quickly, hoping to forget faster. He set the pipe back in his drawer and laid down on his bed with a a goofy smile on his face. He felt good again and the memories of those times faded, replaced by silly and happy thoughts. Eventually, he fell asleep.

The next day, Stiles was hanging out with Scott. Scott was giving him a funny look again. Stiles was sure he knew, but if he wasn't going to say anything, neither was Stiles.

"Stiles," said Scott softly. "Why are you smoking weed?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Stiles, hoping that would be enough, but knowing it wouldn't be.

Scott gave him a concerned look and said, "Stiles, I can smell it all over you. A normal person probably can't, but I can. I've been able to smell it for a while now. So why?"

"It helps me relax a bit, okay, Scott? It's just weed and it isn't that bad. Don't worry, man. It's fine."

Scott sighed. He knew Stiles was going through a hard time and that weed really wasn't that bad. A lot of people in California used it. If it helped him recover, maybe it was for the best.

"Alright. Just be careful, okay? You don't want your dad or anyone to find out," said Scott.

"I will be," replied Stiles as he flashed Scott a smile. "Thanks, Scott."

Some more time passed and Stiles noticed that weed no longer provided an escape to him. The images and memories followed him into the high. He couldn't escape. This frustrated Stiles and he sought out other drugs. He tried Ecstasy. It made him feel super happy and he had a good time at the rave he went to, but the crash the next day left him feeling more depressed than ever. Stiles needed something to give him an escape. He needed to be gone from all of this at least for a while. That was when his dealer suggested heroin to him. Stiles was a bit skeptical at first because of the needles thing, but after the dealer explained the effects and the cheapness of the drug, Stiles gave in and bought it. He went him and prepared the heroin like the dealer had told him. He tied up his arm and found a good vein. Without any further hesitation he injected the heroin into his arm and removed the needle.

The effect was almost immediate. Stiles quickly placed the needle back in the drawer before collapsing back onto his bed. He was floating, floating away from all his problems, his life, and his body. He felt amazing, better than he ever had before. A goofy smiled passed over his face before he closed his eyes, but he wasn't asleep. He was still floating, enjoying his bliss. He couldn't remember anything, good or bad. It was perfect. This was what Stiles had been searching for. An escape. This was a complete escape for him. He could really get used to this. 

Stiles began shooting up every day. The heroin was affordable and his dealer always seemed to have some for him. It was just so easy. Scott was beginning to notice the differences and changes in Stiles though. He could see the dark circles under Stiles' eyes and that his skin had become paler than normal. The final clue was when Scott caught a glimpse of Stiles' track marks. That was the last straw. Scott had to say something.

"Stiles, what are you using?" asked Scott.

"I've just been using weed, dude, same as always," said Stiles, shifting a bit. He had been more fidgety lately. He needed another hit.

"Stiles, I know you're not using weed. I don't smell it anymore. And I can see the physical toll whatever you're taking is having on you. I'm going to ask you again, what are you using?" asked Scott again with more force.

"Scott, it's none of your business," replied Stiles. "I'm feeling better, okay? That's all that matters."

"That's not all that matters! Drugs can be dangerous and you know that!"

"Scott, really, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stiles took off without waiting for Scott's response. He was really feeling it now. He needed another hit and fast. The memories were coming back in full force and he couldn't handle Scott's questions. He went back to his room and pulled out his stash and needle. As he was about to start preparing his heroin, he heard a noise and looked up at the door to see Scott standing there with a surprised and shocked look on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Stiles, his agitation apparent.

"Trying to figure out what's going on with you," answered Scott. "Heroin, man? Really? Please tell me this is a joke."

"It's none of your business, Scott. It helps me deal with everything. It's not that big of a deal."

"Stiles, you could die from this stuff."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Stiles! You know that doesn't mean you'll live through it every time!"

"Not all of us are lucky and have werewolf powers or a pack or a loving mother to help us with everything!"

Scott was taken aback by that last comment. He was too stunned to say anything, so Stiles continued.

"You don't understand me or what I'm going through, okay? You just don't and you can't possibly hope to. This is nothing. It just helps. It isn't a problem, Scott."

"Stiles...," said Scott, a bit softer now. "You know that's not the case. You need help, man. This isn't you."

"This isn't me? THIS ISN'T ME?! Again with that bullshit! You and everyone else told me that during the whole nogitsune incident, too! Well, guess what, Scott? This IS me and you better get used to it," shouted Stiles.

"I know this isn't you, Stiles. You're just hurting. You don't mean to do any of this. Let's get you some help, okay?"

"You know what? I thought you were my friend. My best friend even. But no. You're not my friend, Scott, and you never were!"

Those words hit Scott like a freight train. He just froze as quiet tears started to roll down his cheeks. Those were words he never thought he'd hear from his best friend. While Scott was stunned, Stiles grabbed his stuff and ran out of the room and the house. It took Scott a little while to recover and realize what had happened, but Stiles was gone by that point. Scott took off after him, trying to get those words out of his head. He picked up Stiles' scent and followed it. He finally tracked it to a rundown house. He just opened the door and was greeted by a rough looking man.

"Who are you and what're you doing here?" asked the man.

"I'm looking for someone," replied Scott.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna have to leave," said the man, drawing a gun on Scott.

Scott was not in the mood for this right now. His eyes flashed red and he grabbed the man's gun, bending it in his hand and then punched the man in the chest, sending him through a nearby wall where he collapsed in an unconscious heap. Scott normally didn't resort to such violence, but Stiles' life was possibly in danger. He ran through the house, following the scent. He saw a lot of people spread out on blankets or mattresses, all high on something. Finally, he came to a small room with a bed on the floor. Stiles was lying on it, clearly high out of his mind. His needles were on the floor, but there was no heroin left. He must have shot it all up.

Scott moved closer to Stiles and, suddenly, Stiles began to heave, puking in his mouth. He was choking on his on vomit. Panic flooded Scott and he quickly rolled Stiles onto his side while hitting him hard on the back. Scott used his fingers to dislodge the remaining vomit in Stiles' mouth and throat, but it seemed he had been too slow. Stiles had stopped breathing and Scott couldn't hear Stiles' heartbeat anymore. Scott immediately began CPR, glad that his mom had taught him a while back. After the chest compressions, he breathed into Stiles' mouth, not caring that there was still traces of vomit there. He saw Stiles chest rise, meaning his airway was clear, but Stiles' pulse hadn't returned and he wasn't breathing on his own. Scott continued to give Stiles CPR, but he wasn't responding to it. Scott was crying at this point as he continued. Finally, in desperation, Scott's eyes flashed red and he roared Stiles' name so loudly it shook the entire house as he slammed his fists down onto Stiles' chest one more time. Then Scott heard it. He heard Stiles' heartbeat return and he could hear Stiles breathe as his chest rose and fell. Scott collapsed on the bed next to Stiles, emotionally and physically exhausted. He waited for Stiles to come out of his high.

A few hours later, Stiles finally began to stir, groggily sitting up. He looked over at Scott, wiping his mouth as there was still dried vomit there.

"Wha...," Stiles managed to choke out.

Stiles was interrupted by Scott pulling him into a very tight hug. Scott was crying and at first Stiles wondered why, but then he remembered.

"I... Died...," said Stiles as the realization set in. "But I remember hearing you call out to me.

"You almost died," said Scott, still refusing to let go of Stiles as if he was afraid he would lose him if he let go. "But I pulled you back. I told you it was dangerous, Stiles. If I hadn't been here... You..."

Scott couldn't finish the sentence, but it was okay. Stiles knew what he was trying to say and he squeezed Scott tighter, now crying himself.

"I'm so sorry, Scott," Stiles said. "This isn't what I wanted. I never wanted things to get like this, but I just couldn't deal with it. The images, the memories. I still have nightmares about twisting that blade inside of you. And Allison.... I... I needed an escape."

"You could have come to me," said Scott as the two finally separated, now looking straight at each other. "I'm always here for you. I can't lose you, Stiles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I know. I can't imagine losing you either, Scott. And I'm so sorry I said those terrible things to you when you confronted me earlier. Like... Like when I said you weren't my friend..."

Stiles looked down at the floor when he said that. He couldn't believe such a thing ever crossed his lips. He felt Scott place a strong and comforting hand on his shoulder and he looked up at Scott.

"It's okay," said Scott, smiling through his tears. "I know it wasn't you and I know you didn't mean it."

Stiles' lip was trembling now. He didn't know what he'd done to be worthy of such an amazing friend. Someone who wouldn't judge him and was always there for him.

"Thanks, Scott," Stiles choked out finally. "Can you help me? Help me come to terms with all this and get over this addiction?"

"Yeah, of course," said Scott.

"I want the two of us to handle it. I don't want anyone else to know."

"I think I have an idea."

Scott made arrangements for them to stay at a cabin in the nearby area. It was isolated and away from everyone else. They told their families and friends that the two of them wanted to take a best friends trip for a bit. Everyone kind of just shrugged it off. It was Scott and Stiles after all. The two of them drove to the cabin and were surprised at how nice it was. They quickly settled in for the week that they would be staying there. After they had settled in, they cooked dinner and went to bed early. It had been a long past couple of days and they were both tired.

Stiles woke up screaming to Scott holding him in his arms while sitting behind Stiles and telling him it would be okay. He'd had another nightmare again. He also felt pain. He ached everywhere. He knew what this was; it was withdrawal pain. Suddenly, he felt the pain begin to fade away.

"Scott, you don't need to do that," said Stiles softly.

"It's nothing," said Scott, giving Stiles a smile as black veins covered both of his hands and arms.

Stiles noticed that and said, "Scott, you can't take that much."

"If it helps you, then I don't care," said Scott as he pulled his best friend in tighter to him, still drawing out all of Stiles' pain. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I saw Allison and Aiden. Their deaths replaying endlessly in front of me while the nogitsune taunted me. I started screaming and that's when I woke up."

"Stiles, their deaths weren't your fault."

"But they were, Scott. Even if the nogitsune was just using me, it was still me. My hand. My fingers. My body."

"Stiles, it wasn't you. It was never you and no one thinks that."

Stiles was about to protest again, but he felt an unusual warmth and calm. It confused him for a moment, but then he realized it was coming from Scott. He wasn't sure why, but just being around Scott like this was soothing to him. Why hadn't he just done this from the start?

"Yeah," said Stiles quietly. "I know..."

"Let's get some rest, okay? We both need it," said Scott. "I'll be right here, man."

With that, Scott and Stiles laid down on the bed next to each other. Stiles was no longer in any pain. Scott had seen to that. He felt safe and secure knowing Scott was right there with him. In a few moments, they both drifted off to sleep. Stiles slept soundly and quietly through the rest of the night. In the morning, Stiles woke up to Scott fixing breakfast. He made scrambled eggs and bacon, a classic, but personal favorite of Stiles. They ate and then went for a walk in the woods where they talked more. That was how things went for most of the week. Scott always made sure to take all of Stiles' withdrawal pains in spite of Stiles' protests. He couldn't stand to see his best friend in pain. Each time, the pain was less and shorter than before. Scott drawing out the pain seemed to speed up Stiles' recovery from the heroin. Stiles found he didn't even cravings for the stuff by halfway through the week. They spent a lot of time talking as well as just doing things together, trying to get back to normal. Finally, it was the night of their last day at the cabin. Scott and Stiles were watching the sunset from the porch of their cabin. They both stood leaning over the railing a bit.

"Hey, Scott," said Stiles. "Thanks for this, man. I feel almost human again."

Scott smiled and replied, "Don't mention it, dude. I'm just glad I was able to actually help you. You look a lot better and you didn't even have any pains today."

"Yeah. Today was a really good day."

"Kind of sucks we have to go back tomorrow."

"Yeah, but we have to get back to reality sometimes and the pack needs you, Scott."

"Yeah, I know, but you're still important to me Stiles. Probably more important than anything else to me."

"I know. And you're the most important thing to me, too."

Stiles let out a deep breath. That calming and warming feeling he got from Scott had grown stronger as the week went along. It always seemed to pull him back even when Scott wasn't directly talking to him. That's when it hit him.

"Scott," said Stiles. "I think you're my anchor. I know that might sound weird because I'm not a werewolf, but-"

Scott cut him and, with a smile, said, "No, man. That makes sense. An anchor is something or someone who grounds you. It pulls you back when you feel like you're losing it. It's a calming and warming presence. Something strong."

"That's exactly what I feel. I guess it just took me time to realize it."

"I know what you mean. Because you're my anchor, too, Stiles. It just took me a little while to finally realize it, too."

Stiles turned to smile at Scott and realized Scott was already beaming at him with one of his ridiculously big and bright smiles. The two of them hugged one more time before going inside to fix dinner and pack up. They both slept soundly and peacefully that night. They returned home the next morning. Stiles felt like a new person. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted from his body. He felt lighter and happier and he physically looked better. He was reminded of why he and Scott were best friends. They could trust each other absolutely and with anything. They would always be there for each other and nothing would ever change that. Stiles was never plagued by the thoughts, images, and memories of the nogitsune incident again and his nightmares never returned. Scott had helped him through everything and Stiles had found his anchor. They'd been through hell, but that was over now. Everything was going to be okay.


End file.
